Of Elves and Lovers
by Judith Black
Summary: R for later Chapters (no slash) / pre-LOTR. Haldir and his kinsmen encounter a stranger in their Woods. The Guardian holds it together when his pride and people are threatened, but he finds something he didn't expect.
1. Uninvited Guest

{The story of Haldir of Lórien is an essentially unexplored one, which gives his writers some flexibility. I shamelessly pursue such flexibility, heheh. I am obliged to remind readers that the settings and legends in this story belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, as well as all the characters with the exception of Neviâ the Redspear, the other whom this story involves. She's mine. I'm an amateur writer at fanfictions and all fictions, so critiques are warmly welcomed. I'm still new at Tolkein's world, so if something isn't accurate (taking into consideration the artist's liberty), please help! Thank you.. -- Judith.}  
  
[Our story takes place before the War of the Ring, and at the brink of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. For the purposes of the story, Haldir the Wood-elf looks just as he does in Peter Jackson's movies, played by Craig Parker. But the story itself follows more of the book than the film.]  
  
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Rúmil and Orophin talked idly as brothers will, the tune of their singsong voices going no further than the boughs of the mallorn-tree in which they rested. Golden leaves fell from untold heights; the air was calm, carrying an ancient grace that could only be found in the woods of Lórien.   
Haldir approached from below, his spirited laughter gaining the attention of his distracted kin.   
  
"Brothers!" shouted he, a grin claiming his triangular lips, "our stranger approaches. Come, let us have what fun we will."  
  
At his words, the others climbed from the center of their tree abode--from the 'talan,' or flet, as such structures are called--and their lithe forms spun from branch to branch as they came down. As their heels hit the ground, they exchanged with Haldir looks of amusement and appreciation. Haldir was well-respected by his kinsmen, and none doubted his will whether in jest, or confrontation. He was a marchwarden of the northern borders of the Golden Wood, and fairly loved. He knew this as a leader who knows that he is counted on, but carried himself as nothing more than a servant of his Lady and Lord.   
  
"Haldir," prompted Rúmil as they walked to the edges of the forest, "what news of our latest trespasser?"  
  
"It is a woman," said Haldir with disregard, "who comes alone, and we have seen that she was not followed. A traveller. Apparently lost; ah, let's make it worth her surprise."  
  
"A mighty foe indeed!" clucked Orophin, and the three stopped and listened and waited for this new company to approach.   
  
Haldir mused. It wasn't often that lone travellers found their way to the realm of Lothlórien; usually they came by groups, though the wiser avoided coming this way at all. But on rare occasions, when danger was not at hand, and a poor wanderer might come from whatever end of the earth seeking refuge, he and his men enjoyed the company. Or, rather, enjoyed toying with the fear such folk displayed upon seeing the Elves of Old. Such drifters often afforded them news of the distant kingdoms; afterward Haldir might offer better direction and command they return from whence they came. Other times, wanderers were forbidden to leave, and forever lost in the minds of their people. Such was the way of Lórien.   
The ever-watchful eyes of the Wood hardly allowed a wayfarer beyond the stream of Celebrant that flowed east into Great Anduin, but on occasions as these--a human, alone, and not followed, for instance--they allowed passage, and approached at will. If the Lady of the Wood gave some notice that company was expected, the intruders were immediately brought to her council, and their fate decided thus. But fair Galadriel gave no warning of this new visitor. Haldir was at liberty to do as he and his men wished. Their intentions were harmless, and afforded them some amusement.  
  
As the woman came nearer where the guards hid, Haldir watched with fine anticipation. She was a league away, and he smelt the old leather of her cloak, as keenly as he saw its frayed edges. She bore the trappings of a wearied traveller; her boots faded, the dagger sheath at her waist poorly sewn where it was not ripped. Her hair was amiss; bands of auburn strung down below her shoulders, though uneven around her face and kept in a crude string of leather. So it seemed that her hair was a moderate red, but as the sun shone in her favor, Haldir observed it to be stronger, as a burgundy. Her eyes were blue as the dark sky just after dawn. She was taller than most human women, but probably just as small in build; her clothes were thick and he couldn't tell. She seemed no more a threat as any girl. Dirt patched most of her face, and she frequently pulled her soiled hair from her eyes, as it was thick and wild in the winds.   
  
She was not stunning as maidens Haldir had seen in the past, but something was altogether different. Perhaps it was the lady herself, or perhaps it was her intention. He did not recognize her origins immediately, and so assumed that he was right in guessing she was lost, hailing from afar. His brothers laughed silently amongst each other, sharing the observation.   
  
There was something in the long features of her face--that's what it was that set her apart; she was angular. Her nose was strong and her brows heavy, but not wide. This woman had seen conflict, it was obvious, and she was not altogether terribly unattractive--well, perhaps if she were rinsed and set to dry. If she was hard to approach by men of her own kind, it was on account of her neglected appearance. He smiled to himself, hardly surprised why such a woman wandered alone.   
  
And so she was paused, staring all about her in wonder, as most do. Then a sudden queerness came into her face, and with some surprise to those watching, she smiled. A smile that seemed at first fond, but grew odd and misplaced. She smiled broadly, her teeth glimmering in what would later be acknowledged as an incredibly sharp mouth.  
  
"Guardian!" she called suddenly. "Guards of the northern borders of this Secret Wood." Her smile strengthened, and she raised her hands over her head as if in mocking surrender. "Can you hear me? I know you can! You are the Watchers. I have entered where I should not. I have gone beyond glorious Nimrodel. Come out, and tell me so! Come out," she lowered her voice in a manner of taunting.  
  
Rúmil and Orophin looked strangely at Haldir, who kept his eyes on the woman, and they questioned him lowly in their Silvan tongue. It is not likely that strangers provoke creatures from a land they do not know, a land which most fear. Haldir silenced his doubtful brothers, and motioned that they prepare.  
  
"I do not mean to disturb your precious woods," she continued, her arms still above her. "Well, maybe just a little," she added with a faint smirk.   
  
"Guardians!" she yelled fiercely, her voice echoing through the rows of trees, which in her wake became silent. "I know you hear me," her voice faded, becoming impatient, if not a little alarmed. "Am I to assume, then, that you sacred beings fear harmless girls--"  
  
But her next words never came. A light, but sharp prod went into her side, and the woman gasped and stumbled backward at the sight of Rúmil and Orophin with their bows loaded a mere breath away. Haldir stood between the armed Elves, and a pace behind. His hands were clasped behind his back. He was tall, looking down upon this woman who dared affront them.   
  
"Hold your tongue," he demanded, quite unamused. He used the Common Speech, to match her own. Each word he pronounced with as much care as though they were his last to speak, and her last to hear. She seemed to feel the same.  
  
Her eyes were wide now, but fear passed out of them as quickly as it came. Haldir wondered at this, but was too angered by her provocation to give a care for her mood.   
  
"Lower your arms," he ordered. She hesitated before obeying.   
  
"One move for your dagger, or attempt for escape," Haldir continued, his voice in itself a threat, "and you will cease to exist in the minds of your people, and all creatures."  
  
His words had the desired effect, for the woman made no comment or gesture, and barely did she breathe. He took a step forward, a long and gentle stride that carried him in front of his brothers. His arms still wrung behind his back, he studied the woman from head to foot, observing closely. She was younger than he guessed before, at the most twenty-seven summers. Her eyes were unmistakably blue, but a swirl of amber shown in them.   
  
In a moment, her alarmed expression turned into an icy glare. Haldir grit his teeth and wondered what gave her reason for animosity, when she was in fact lucky to not have been shot down at her first words. He wanted to tell her so, but thought better of his authority.  
  
"Your name, woman," he demanded, his voice matching the coldness of her stare. The arrows of his men did not waver.  
  
"Neviâ."  
  
"What brings you here? You are uninvited, and clearly not lost."  
  
"So you've noticed. I see your perfect Elvish eyes have managed the long quest beyond your nose."  
  
Haldir's arms dropped to his side, but his face did not falter. His anger mounted.  
  
"You will tell us your purpose here now, for you will have no other chance."  
  
"Well met, Guardian. I've come to see the Lady and Lord." Her voice carried a distinct accent, and he suspected that she spoke another language of her own kind, though he couldn't guess any that fit.   
  
Rúmil and Orophin shared a sharp, quick laugh. Haldir did not stir.  
  
"She is not expecting you. What is your purpose?"  
  
"I come with a message."  
  
"For whom do you deliver this message?"  
  
"My people."  
  
Haldir considered, but it took less than a moment for him to decide what would be done.  
  
"Vain were your people to think you would return from these woods," he said coarsely.  
  
Rúmil and Orophin came so near her that the tips of their arrows brushed the skin of her cheek. Haldir turned his back, and made for the woods.  
  
Orophin called to him before he could take but a few steps, and in their tongue, he said with a laugh: "Ah! Perhaps we have no use for the Messenger, when here lies the Message."  
  
Haldir turned sharply and approached the girl, drawing the men back. She was unstirred, though her skin had grown pale with this prospect of death. He glanced where Orophin looked, and saw a rough pouch at her side with a small scroll standing out. He reached for the parchment and slipped it out of her belt, receiving no change in her disposition. He studied her for a moment, noting that she had not taken her eyes off of him. He quickly unrolled the message.  
  
"It's blank," he said with a smirk, and showed the paper to his brothers. They snickered, and raised their bows. Haldir rolled the parchment as it was, and tucked it into his own belt.  
  
"Milady, your time and ours has been wasted on this day. Either you speak plainly, or in a moment, you do not speak again. Do you understand?"  
  
The woman nodded once, reluctantly. Haldir lifted his hand, an order for his kin to lower their weapons. He looked at her expectantly.  
  
"As I've said, my name is Neviâ, but I am called Redspear by my own," she spoke evenly, and Haldir commended her stubbornness, for it nearly matched his own. "Since you will not address yourselves to me, I can only assume that you are fair Haldir of Lórien, and these your brothers."  
  
Haldir looked at her curiously, wondering how someone of a seemingly simple origin seemed to know so much. She continued with no hesitation:   
  
"What is so important I shan't say to any but the Lord and Lady, because I trust no other. I am no threat. Let me pass."  
  
Haldir almost smiled. How she dared!  
  
"Or if I am correct in so saying," she went on, "that perhaps the myth of the courtesy of the Galadhrim is just that: a myth."  
  
Haldir would no more be bothered with her presumptions and rudeness. It was against his opinion, but in the name of truth he decided to wait until her purposes were discovered before commanding her removal. She was unnaturally educated on the goings-on of his kin. Perhaps his Lord and Lady did know of the stranger's arrival, or something of the girl. But he would not bring an insensible human into the fair lands of his people without good cause.  
  
"You will stay here the night."  
  
"Here? In the outskirts of the deep forest?" she asked, with a hint of doubt.  
  
"I will have council with the Lady, and return tomorrow. For your sake, she will know what brings you here."  
  
"Should I be grateful for your kindness?"  
  
"No more talk. If she knows naught of your purposes, the guardians of Lórien will be rid of you. Take her away," he said to his men, and began heading forth.  
  
"Mighty Gaurdian!" the woman shouted unkindly, as Orophin pulled her aside and Rúmil kept his bow on her. "How you hide in your trees and your terrible, pure lands, never minding the worries and misfortunes of others. Of innocents! Hiding, you are," she cried, "I would sooner be dead than hide with you," and she jerked away from Orophin's grasp.  
  
She continued harshly, "If I will not be allowed to fulfill my quest, I will certainly not hide from it. Rid of me now, I bid you!"  
  
Haldir could stand no more. He turned sharply, and marched with ferocity into her shadow. He stood but an inch facing her, and both could feel warmth from the other's body, burning in the other's anguish. For many moments Haldir stared down into her unflinching eyes, and she scowled into his, her lips pursed; a defiance Haldir had not been met with from any but enemies. Still, she was not evil. This beyond all was why she was still alive, and he stayed considerably calm.  
  
"You will stay," he finally said. "Either we will dispose of you here, or place you elsewhere, but do not deny that you will never leave these woods again." He spoke with such authority that his brothers shifted, and gripped their weapons more firmly. The woman did not counter, but neither looked away.  
  
Haldir unclenched his fists and loosened his jaw when a slight fear at last shone in her eyes. It was not a fear of him, or her fate, he realized, but of something she had yet to reveal. Perhaps she came with a message. He was wasting time. Catching his breath that was lost somewhere in frustration, he looked once more over her glowering face, gave a nod to his men, and watched as they carried her off. She resisted no longer, and didn't turn to glance back.  
  
Watching as Orophin pulled her into the soft shadows of the wood, and Rúmil followed with his weapon, Haldir sighed.   
  
At length he collected his thoughts, and made for Cerin Amroth. 


	2. The Redspear

{I've rewritten some scenes, which you can expect to happen often in my work. Sorry it's taken me an age to get this chapter up! Feedback, criticisms, corrections, all warmly welcome. Thanks!}  
  
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Haldir returned to the border-woods early the following afternoon.  
  
He first approached the sentinels to hear of any changes, relieved that the lands were undisturbed during the night. His fellow elf-guards could not discern his mood. What had he discovered of this strange, obscene woman? Was she evil? ...and what of her message?  
  
But Haldir was dutifully secretive of his councils with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, and he said nothing. Elves could be very mysterious folk by nature, especially among their own kin. Haldir was no exception.  
  
Rúmil scoffed at his brother's secrecy. "Come, Haldir! Shall we play a game of guessing? Is the woman a dwarf grown-over?"  
  
Haldir grinned sidelong at his brother as they walked unnoticed through the trees. "A dwarf indeed," he said slyly.   
  
"Alas that you will not tell your own kin," Rúmil grumbled, and sighed.   
  
"I never tell you a thing," replied Haldir, amused. "Why might now be different?"  
  
"Perhaps you can tell me?" countered Rúmil vaguely. Haldir looked at him with question, but the other said no more. Rúmil quirked a brow and took his leave. Haldir stared after him, confused by his brother's behavior. After a moment he remembered his feet, and sought the woman who called herself Redspear.   
  
Indeed he had learned much from his visit with the Lady and Lord of the Golden Wood. His pride was bruised from the stranger's words to the Elves, but the Lady was quick to ease his concerns. He reflected:   
  
"So the Redspear has arrived," said Galadriel to the approaching guard; Haldir it was, looking troubled and angered. "We had not expected her so soon."  
  
"My Lord, my Lady," said Haldir quietly, and bowed his head. "But my Lady, the woman is crude. She may not be evil, but she has ill intentions."  
  
"Haldir, how you worry," replied Galadriel warmly. "You do too well your duties."  
  
"Neviâ is a friend of the Elves," said Celeborn, with a faint smile.   
  
"A friend!" Haldir was relieved that the Lord and Lady were not alarmed, but their reasoning evaded him.   
  
"Her story is not easily told, dear Guardian. She bears no ill will. And may talk unkindly, but her heart is pure. She is threatened by our ways. She comes with a message," said Galadriel.   
  
"Aye. We found this," Haldir said, resentfully pulling the small roll of parchment from his belt and placing it in Celeborn's extended hand. "It is blank."  
  
"Indeed," said Galadriel, searching Haldir with sympathetic eyes. "Thank you for coming to us before you acted unwisely. Wish no harm upon dear Neviâ, for she brings no harm here. She is only lost, even if she knows her way."  
  
"You will bid her stay a night," said Celeborn. "We should like a meeting with her."  
  
"Are we to allow such a stranger into our lands?" Haldir was not entirely comfortable.  
  
"She is strange only to you, Haldir," said Galadriel, who walked before him and lay a hand on his shoulder. "Neviâ has come to warn us. It is her people--lost men of foreign woods--who wish the Galadhrim harm."  
  
"Why, my Lady?"  
  
"They are hopeless, leaderless, and driven to ill deeds by their jealousy of the Elves. They are not well, these people. Darkness is taking Middle-earth, Haldir, slowly. Look but a year from now, and the world may be at war."  
  
Haldir bowed his head lowly: "My lady."  
  
Celeborn sighed deeply and continued: "Neviâ is not like her people. She is cast out. Pity her, Haldir, if you must, but do not make a foe of those with good intention. Middle-earth is short of friends in these uncertain times. Neviâ may yet draw more friends to us, even if Elves are strange to her. It is no easy thing protecting strangers from your own people."  
  
Haldir lay a hand over his heart. He bowed once more. "Thank you."   
  
Then Galadriel turned quickly and whispered, "These men will not harm our lands while your kinsmen guard it, Haldir. But make no mistake... that they will try."  
  
Haldir was unnerved by the prospect of attack on Lórien, but the Lady was right: there is no way any band of men could successfully invade. They would fall dead upon the arrows of the Golden Elves before they would even look at the waters of Nimrodel. But the Wood Elves were not a violent race; in fact, it would be considerably better to outwit a foe than to kill him. But they are extremely protective of their homes, and would fight if necessary.   
  
And so after talking idly with his Lord and Lady of other goings-on in the land, he turned and left, feeling a great deal easier.   
  
Presently he stood beside a mallorn, thoughtful as he traced with his eyes the sun's rays across the grasses. A part of the ancient world he was, and yet still knew so little! He adored his Lord and Lady because they were as part of the earth as the trees and sun, and they never left him in doubt. Nor would he doubt them in this, but in his heart, he thought he would not forgive this stranger-woman for her unfair words.  
  
At last he climbed noiselessly into the 'mellyrn,' sliding in and out of its branches as easily as the breeze. He stepped onto the flet, questioning Orophin--who waited there--with narrow eyes. Orophin gestured to the ground, and so Haldir leaned over the edge and peered below.  
  
Neviâ was rested on the leafy floor, upon her back; her eyes closed and her arms spread at her sides. She seemed at peace, so quiet that Haldir, had he not known better, may have taken her for dead. He much preferred she be silent for all ages, than ever use her cursed tongue again. Orophin seemed to read Haldir's thoughts, and he grinned and shrugged.   
  
Haldir said nothing. It was apparent to him that his men no longer felt as he did about their new trespasser. Perhaps she displayed some kindness to them during the night? It seemed unlikely, yet they were no longer as defensive. It seemed, almost, that his men befriended her. 'A friend of the Elves,' he thought grimly: 'we shall see.'   
  
He swung from the boughs unto the ground as easily as he came up. 'She lays with not a care in the world,' he thought. He approached the woman on the ground, standing directly over her so that his shadow blocked her from the sun's touch. Though never hearing his steps, she felt the coolness over her face, and opened a single eye to peer at him. She smiled, but it was not scornful.  
  
"Though I have been under many arrow-tips this past night, I have never slept with such peace. Thank you," she said quietly, and despite himself her words brought him comfort.   
  
Haldir could say nothing to that. "The Lady is waiting for you," he said plainly.   
  
He called for his men in Elvish (for most of them knew little of the common speech) and bade them prepare their trip to Cerin Amroth, whilst Neviâ pulled herself up from the tangle of leaves. Two of Haldir's men approached, and continued speaking with hushed voices in their language. Neviâ looked on, dusting her cloak, and smiling around at her surroundings with appreciation. Haldir watched her warily, not quite sure what he might say to this changed manner.   
  
"We will lead you to the Lady, but it is not our custom to bring ...strangers into our land," he said slowly, noticing that she did not look at him as he spoke. Indeed, she seemed quite interested in the golden leaves that fell, taking deep breaths from the strong breeze that ran through the forest. She wore a soft smile.  
  
He glanced to his men, who were grinning slightly at this, but Haldir's mood didn't sway.  
  
"Do you understand me..."  
  
"Neviâ?" she said quickly, turning to face him.   
  
"I am aware of your name."  
  
"And indeed you may use it," she said evenly, walking towards them. "Now, where do we go?"  
  
Haldir bit his tongue and decided to say nothing until all was settled between the Lady and Neviâ. He motioned for his guards to stand one behind her as they travelled, and one beside her. He lead the way through the woods, never turning around but always listening.  
  
At last the small company crossed the Silverlode; the Elves walked over the water easily upon a single rope that was tied from one tree to another on the East. And then they fashioned two ropes as a bridge for Neviâ, who was not Elf-kind and presumably could not cross on one rope. But she braced carefully and walked the single line as her Elvish companions did. She lay a hand once on the other rope for balance, and that was to let herself down.   
  
Haldir wondered at this. She seemed rough, crude, hardly blessed with grace. The Elves exchanged strange, half-amused looks and coiled the rope and moved forth. No one said a thing, but it was safe to believe that Neviâ the Redspear indeed had dealings with Elves before. Why should she dishonor them?  
  
Haldir was strung with doubt. After a while, he stopped.  
  
"This is where we blindfold you. It is the Naith of Lórien, no stranger is allowed to see its secrets." He observed changes in Neviâ's face; she seemed alarmed, but said nothing and answered with an agreeable nod.  
  
Haldir motioned to his guard, who pulled a cloth from his cloak and handed it to him. Haldir walked cautiously toward Neviâ, who was watching him intently. He thought he might say something then, but words escaped him. He bound the cloth around her eyes firmly, her hair gathering around it in the winds, brushing his slender hand as he worked a knot.  
  
The touch of her hair was delicate, and gave him an odd feeling of things.   
  
So his men filed together and he was their leader; the guard at Neviâ's side guided her with easy pushes in any direction the path took. And in this fashion they walked through the woodland.  
  
Nearly arrived at the seat of the Lord and Lady, Haldir stooped sudddenly to remove a fallen branch from the way of the path, and his men did not acknowledge his movements straight away, obviously intending for some innocent mischief to ensue. (The humor and merriment of the Elves must never be forgotten when one is at their mercy--an infamous thing their sweet myths and tales don't quite mention.)   
  
Thus poor Neviâ, in utter darkness, tumbled into his hunched back.   
  
She yelped and soared to the ground, though Haldir was swift in his senses and turned, just preventing her fall. One on top of the other, they hit the soft ground. It caused none harm, and his men were overcome with laughter.   
  
Haldir himself could not keep from smiling. Neviâ was eased by the cheerful ring of their voices, but her eyes were still bound as she grasped the air blindly. Haldir tossed his head and chuckled, for Neviâ lay in such a way that her body was over his--becoming his warmth, as his back was laid to the ground.  
  
"Such a coil!" she chortled. "Might I remove my blindfold? Have we come near the Lady yet? I can not see!"  
  
His men were nearly in tears.   
  
At last Haldir motioned for the wardens to help. One removed Neviâ's blindfold, and Haldir was startled by the color of her eyes and flush in her cheeks. Perhaps it was because they were so close now; Neviâ was a breath away, and her face was all that he could see. She was outlined by the tree-heights and their shuddering yellow-green leaves. She seemed to share his wonderment, her eyes following the formation of his face, settling on his dark eyes for some answer he could not give.   
  
Then she grinned broadly, and said with her thick accent, "I thank you Guardian, for -this- ground is not as cold as the other," and she gave his side a gentle squeeze.  
  
Then the other guard collected and lifted her easily, and gripped Haldir's hand to pull him to his feet.   
  
"The lady may walk a line of rope no wider than her finger--and fall over a grown elf!" joked one of the guards.  
  
"Indeed!" cracked the other. "Tis a strange business, my lady. Very strange."  
  
Neviâ grinned at them. "Aye. I am no Elf. But on the rope, I could see my next step."   
  
The guards looked at each other as if judging what she had said, then they both nodded their heads to her. "My lady," they said with sharp grins.  
  
Haldir suddenly found it hard to smile, and could only watch Neviâ with wonder. She had displayed such friendliness to him, where many would have been mortified. He presently thought no more of it, and lead them all to a nearby slope in the hills.  
  
"We have come to Cerin Amroth. I will lead you to the Lady," said Haldir. He did not directly look at the woman, but felt her awe for the scene before them. A flourish of greenery, such beauty as can only be seen in the ancient lands. A mysticism that filled even he, who had been there countless times. A closeness of all that is pure and cherished.  
  
"I will soon meet the Lady of Light," Neviâ said in a hushed voice, in a tone that suggested she did not believe herself.   
  
Once again words eluded Haldir.   
  
He and his men continued walking, Neviâ between them and silent. 


	3. Guardian and Guide

{{This is basically a "get to know you" kind of chapter, so that the history of Neviâ and her relations to Galadriel are made known. Excitement continues in the following chapters, just gotta get the background stuff out the way, and all. I think it's fairly obvious what direction this fiction is taking; Elf meets Woman, Elf hates Woman, Elf Gets to Know Woman, Elf Fancies Woman.. and so on. ;) Just a show that not all Elves are entirely unwavering on the idea of being with humans. Critiques and ideas very warmly accepted.}}  
  
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When the Elvish travellers and their woman-guest arrived at Caras Galadhon, city of the Galadhrim, the sun already began to drop from the sky. All of Lothlórien was musical with the drifting of leaves from branch to floor; with the quiet songs of the elf-maidens, who looked curiously upon the roughly clad newcomer and laughed softly amongst themselves.   
  
Neviâ smiled unto them as she--now led only by Haldir--climbed the delicate, but sturdy staircases and paths that rose to the heart and seat of the Lady of the Wood. They stepped up to a wide, glowing flet that far outshined any other in the land. Neviâ braced herself and her eyes shone anxiously, and brightly. Haldir stood a few feet to the side of her, and soon the Lady Galadriel emerged standing tall with the Lord Celeborn at her side.  
  
Neviâ bowed at their approach, but Galadriel quickly bid her stand.   
  
"Elf-friend!" the Lady's voice sang in a greeting. "We are pleased that you have finally come."  
  
And Celeborn uttered words to the servants at his side, who disappeared thereafter and returned shortly bearing seats with soft pillow-pads upon them. They gave one to Neviâ, who insisted she did not mean to bother them with such generosity. But her worries were quelled when Celeborn hastily dismissed them, and together they sat in something of a circle--Haldir himself seated at a distance, ever-watching and listening.   
  
"So, my Lady and my Lord.. you were expecting me?" said Neviâ hesitantly, once they settled.  
  
"Yes, Neviâ. You've come to tell us that your people wish us ill deeds," said Galadriel plainly, but her voice was soft and comforting.   
  
"I have," Neviâ replied, seeming relieved. "I do not understand their animosity. Elves have done nothing to us, yet in the minds of my men they stand as some awful curse to the earth. And least of all, the Galadhrim, whose people have not been seen for ages! I do not know what I can do, but come to warn that they will attack these Woods if they can, though... I do not see that they would be successful. I am overcome with surprise that I myself have made it so far into your lands."  
  
Galadriel smiled. "Nay, Neviâ. You need not worry."  
  
"And if they attack, what will you do?"  
  
The Lady seemed thoughtful for a while, her smile slowly fading. "We will drive them away. We will not harm them. They are a mislead and desperate peoples, but they are harmless."  
  
Neviâ seemed troubled. "I do not doubt that these Woods are impossible to overrun. They are, for one, very well-guarded." She paused, as if reflecting on all that had happened to her since her arrival at the river. "But I feel it in my heart that the desperation of the Rundean--as my people are called--has gone awry. They will try to find and destroy all that they can of this place."  
  
Celeborn spoke gently: "They may try, but they can not. These borders will not shudder at the touch of a few lost men."  
  
Neviâ lowered her head. "My Lord. But I had to find you, die though I might trying. I am restless with the fear that something may yet go astray. It is piteous that I can not do more."  
  
And so it seemed to Haldir, who had been listening with utmost care and interest, that the Lady and Lord indeed meant to soothe Neviâ. But why? Perhaps the Lady had forseen that something would certainly go astray. Perhaps Neviâ's people would be violent, and the Elves in their defense would be forced to rid of them. Now he could see both the Lady's and Neviâ's concerns, and he was strangely saddened.   
  
"Neviâ! Do not despair. You will stay the night with us, if you will, and tomorrow we will send you along a path of safety back to your home," Galadriel said. "That is, if you wish to go that path. Most gracious we are that you have travelled far and alone from the kindness of your spirit to warn us."  
  
"Thank you milady, but I wish not to return home."  
  
"Where might you go?" asked Celeborn. A slight frown was in his brows.  
  
"Of that I am not aware," replied Neviâ, with a small smile. "The earth has no limit. I suspect I shall find a new home before it is over."  
  
"Ah. You are the vision of your mother," said Galadriel. "With no less the charm, and all of her strength."  
  
"Of my mother!" responded Neviâ quickly. "Then the Lady knows more than I do."  
  
"It is unfortunate that you could not know your mother, or your grandmother. Strong and willful, and beautiful they were," said Galadriel. "For they were also great friends of ours, and all Elf-kind. It is to them that we owe you such courtesy as we may, for your mothers before you were helpful to our kind through these long years."  
  
Neviâ seemed to shine at the mentioning of her family, and thus listened as the Lady and Lord told tales she never before heard of her mother, the Elf-friend and outcast. Her mother had never seen the Golden Wood, but knew well its sister-haven Rivendell, and the Master Elrond. Neviâ had many questions to ask, and all were answered with patience and care by Galadriel and Celeborn, who seemed pleased that they might fill in such a hole as was lain in Neviâ's heart. Haldir himself was surprised that her family, whom she had not even known, had such history with his own kindred. But ever in his heart he was saddened by a tale that was yet to be told.  
  
When memories were made and all was quiet again, Neviâ at once fell dark and was lost in her thoughts. "I would love nothing more than to stay this night," she said with some difficulty, "but.. I do not mean to intrude."  
  
"It is no intrusion," said Celeborn warmly. "Be at peace here. One of our own will show you the Wood, be your guide, tell you the lore and the stories of old, that your mother so loved. You may dine in our House," he continued, "with our people. And you can leave only when you are ready."  
  
Neviâ seemed uncertain. "When I am ready?" she repeated.  
  
"Aye. You may call this place your home, if you feel all is lost," said Galadriel.   
  
"Me? To stay in the ancient lands and live among the beauty of the Elves?" Neviâ was awed by the idea--it shown in her face--but again she seemed distant and pensive.  
  
"Will you not stay among us?" said Galadriel, but in her voice and her eyes, Haldir could read an answer she long knew.   
  
"I can not," said Neviâ, though it took some great will to deliver the words. "But on this night, I will stay as you bid and look upon the Wood, and upon the Lady, and remember them forever as the only place in all of Middle-earth that was unspoilt by the charges of Men. And be comforted for all my days after."   
  
Neviâ finished with a great sigh, and in a moment they all rose from their seats.  
  
"Then it is so," said Galadriel, and she extended and lay a hand upon Neviâ's bent shoulder. "Rest here tonight, and learn our world from your guide." She looked then at Haldir, who was unmoved and watching anxiously. "I could find no greater leader than our beloved Guardian," she said with a knowing glint in her fair eyes. "If he would be so willing," she added.  
  
Haldir nodded once to the Lady, and once to Neviâ. "Aye," he said softly.   
  
"I am beyond grateful," said Neviâ with sudden humilty. "But I must offer my apologies to your guard," and as she spoke she looked upon Haldir. "For he has been naught but helpful and fair, and I have given unkind words in his expense. I was greatly wrong."   
  
And to his surprise, she bowed lowly to him, before the Lady and the Lord. Haldir could scarcely believe how humbled the woman became, and in the presence of such ancient greatness.   
  
The Lady smiled again. "You have been through much, daughter of Niliâ," she said, "do not bother with guilt and grief over thoughtless words."   
  
"Neviâ," Galadriel continued, but her voice deepened and yet went soft with some new assurance. "The one for whom your heart grieves still remembers you, and has not forgotten your friendship. Be at peace!"  
  
Then both she and Celeborn smiled on their guest, and took their leave. Neviâ sighed again, and stared after them with terrible sadness.   
  
Haldir felt this sadness as plainly as he could feel wind and rain. The one for whom her heart grieves? Mysteries wrung themselves around Neviâ, or the Redspear, as she was called.   
  
"Is something the matter?" Haldir asked after some time.  
  
Neviâ seemed spun from her thoughts, and turned sharply. A new absence was in her eyes. "Nay," she said. "And it is not necessary that you lead me through the City. I would not keep you from your duties, or trouble any here. Only lead me to my resting place, and I'll no more be a bother."  
  
Haldir couldn't decide if she was trying to rid of him, or suffered some secret hurt she would not risk revealing. In any case, his Lady asked him to accompany this stranger-friend, and so he would. "I will show you your sleeping place," he said. "But only once you've seen our City by my guidance."  
  
She looked up suddenly, and searched his face. "I am to guess that you won't be moved on this decision?"  
  
He nodded. "Your guess is fair."  
  
"Because your Lady asked of you to lead me through these unfamiliar lands?" she continued.  
  
Again he nodded. "That is so."  
  
"Then you need not suffer the cause! I will be fine on my own."  
  
"You will be fine accompanied by me," he said evenly, "and 'tis no suffering on my part."  
  
Her dark eyebrows lifted at an angle, and changed the whole of her face into a single question she didn't need to phrase.   
  
He smiled. "All will be well."  
  
"Then it is settled," she said and was peaceful. "I extend kindness and friendship to you, Guardian, and many thanks."  
  
"And I to you," he responded. "But I am also Haldir, as you know that is my name."  
  
"And I may use it?"  
  
"In kindness and friendship!" he replied hastily, and gave her a threatening look, but there was a smile behind his eyes and she knew he was jesting.  
  
She grinned broadly. "Then let us have a go at this City of Trees."  
  
And so they left the Lady and Lord's House, and walked onto many paths, around many trees and homes. Always Haldir had a thing to say on the goings-on of the Wood, particularly the families residing in particular flets they passed. Often, another Elf would come by and offer kind words to Haldir, and look oddly upon Neviâ. Haldir gave introductions in Elvish, and Neviâ seemed to understand some, but not all of what was said. And the visitor would depart, and Haldir would take it upon himself to tell the tale of those who passed. He adored telling stories, especially of his own kind, though he knew little of any else, nor did he often have a spirit to share them with.  
  
And in all his songs and tales, he invited Neviâ to speak of her own experiences and tell stories of her people. She gave hardly a word, but always listened while he spoke, and humored his antics, applauded his finished tales, and always urged him to tell more. It seemed she could not learn enough about any one person or place, and he felt comforted in this. She was restricted to the land of her own people, as he was, and when the desire for knowledge of the outside world overcame her, she had to seek it alone, for no one else would join her. Such was the way of him. When he left the Woods seeking news from distant lands, he was always alone, though these trips were rare.  
  
At last they came to the trunk of a particularly large mallorn, and both sat down in front of it. Neviâ rested her back against the tree-bark, and sighed softly.   
  
Haldir watched her curiously. After a while he spoke.   
  
"It is a rare of the Lady to invite a stranger to live among us," he said quietly.   
  
Neviâ turned to him, but cast her eyes to the ground. "I know," she replied. "And I am so filled with gratitude that it feels like I should burst. But I could not stay, and I think this she already knew."  
  
"Would it be so hard to stay here?" Haldir asked, gesturing around them to the beautiful rows of silver trunks and golden leaves; the soft murmer of Elven spirits in song and speech; the ever-present voice of the Great River calming the lands and hearts of all surrounding it.   
  
Neviâ grinned faintly, understanding his point. "It is a sad thing to turn away," she confided, "but my heart is lost by it-- an Elf who was my friend for many years. And now I can not look upon any Elf-kind without grief."  
  
"The one the Lady spoke of," Haldir said aloud, though he meant it only to himself.  
  
"Aye," she answered. "A dear friend, who taught me much of the Elves, and much of anything I know," she added.  
  
Halidr tried to find her eyes, but always they were turned down. "I thought you too knowledgable of the Elves," he said lightly, "to never have known one before. But.. where is your Elf-friend?"  
  
"I do not know. Nearly two years it has been, with naught a word from or for the other."  
  
Hadir nodded his head gently. "Have you no thoughts where she might be?" he asked.   
  
Neviâ looked up, but quickly down again. "None," she said. "I've bent my mind to it time and again, but always for nothing. It is a terrible thing," she said lowly, "to be loosed from so rare a friendship."  
  
He agreed in silence. There they sat for many moments, watching the darkling sky, comforted by the unchanged spirit of the trees.   
  
Then a thought came to him. "You must be thirsting to death! Might I offer you a draft of our water? It is soothing, and our rivers are well-protected."  
  
"You need not convince a thirsting woman to have a drink of water," Neviâ replied slyly.  
  
"Of course," said Haldir, grinning. "I'll be a moment."   
  
And he sprang lightly to his feet, seeking a canteen for this new guest, and friend. 


End file.
